5 Minute Friday: What Mama Did

It's time for my first 5 Minute Friday post!  I feel like this is a post that I could have spent hours writing (who can sum up their mom in only 5 minutes, you know?) but the rules of the post are that you get just 5 minutes.  So, here goes.  Today's prompt: Tell me all about what your mama did that made her yours…



GO:  

She is a fighter.  My mom gave birth to me at age 18, a time when she should have been partying and getting ready for her freshman year at college, and just generally caring for no one but herself.  Instead, she was becoming a mother and learning the ins and outs of taking care of a baby.  As I got older, my mom went to school at night and took on odd jobs like cleaning office buildings at night so that she could be home during our waking hours with my siblings and me.  Looking back, I realize she probably wasn't getting much sleep in those days. 

Fast forward to middle school.  I was the unfortunate victim of bullying.  My life was a living hell for those four years, but my mom always had my back.  She took on the principal, the parents of the bullies, and anyone else who dared to make life any harder for me than it should have been.  She fought for me at a time when I was too scared to fight for myself.

During this time, I was also dealing with quite a few medical issues.   My mom took me to every single doctor's appointment, x-ray, CAT scan, hospital appointment, and procedure that I had back then.  She asked questions and insisted on better care for me when she felt my doctor's weren't doing enough.  She advocated for me at a time when I didn't know enough to advocate for myself.

My mom spent my entire childhood being a fighter for me, and is still doing it for me as an adult.  Last week, she called my gynecologist's office to complain when they forgot me in an exam room after all the nurses and staff had gone home for the night.  Yes...I was mortified that at 28 years old I still had my mom fighting for me.  And, growing up, I was always embarrassed when she'd speak up for me while at the same time being SO grateful for her ability and her need to do so.

Now that I'm a mother myself, I get it.  And I so very much appreciate it because I truly don't know where I'd be today if my mom wasn't such a fighter when it came to us kids.  Sure, we had moments growing up when we argued or when I was embarrassed by her or when we disagreed on something.  We still have those moments.  But no matter what was going on with us, I always knew that my mom was there for me.  Seeing how she fought for us (and with us, at times) has given me the power to do the same for my own kids.  She taught me that I need to be an advocate for my kids when they're too little and too scared and too unknowing to advocate for themselves, and that I need to be a fighter for them always. 

That's what makes her mine...her fight.  Every good mother will fight for her child.  But only MY mother fought for me.  And it made me the woman and the mother that I am today, and I'm pretty damn proud of that.

STOP

Back On Track?

I hope so!

Bailey's sleep has been totally out of whack for the last few months, and it's completely my fault.  When we moved her to a big girl bedroom we also put a tv in there.  It was an extra one we had from college (still works!) and she had been laying in our bed and watching a tv show before bed every night anyway, so Scott and I figured we might as well just put a tv in her room so she could watch it in there and then we wouldn't have to fight with her to get out of our bed and into hers for bedtime.

Big mistake.

See, she was pretty good about watching a show or two before bed and then reading a few books before turning the tv off and going to sleep with her lullaby music playing.  But then I got further along into my pregnancy and Scott started working late nights and it all just went to hell.  Bailey had four books that she used to keep on her night stand for me to read to her before bed.  Four!  And I had to read all four of them.  And they weren't short quick ones either.  And I had to start over if I didn't do the voices right.  And then she wanted to read them to me.  And then, of course, I had to sing a lullaby to her after reading the books.  What should have been a quick and easy bedtime routine started taking longer and longer until we were spending almost an hour JUST on bedtime...sometimes even longer.  The further I got into my pregnancy, the more uncomfortable I became and kneeling on the floor next to her bed for 75 minutes every night was just getting to be too much.  I was exhausted by the time the workday was finished and was doing everything by myself most nights since Scott was working, so after dinner and bath time I just didn't have it in me to fight with her about going to bed every night.  So I started extending her tv time a little bit each night.  And it just kind of snowballed until it got to where I'd turn on the tv,  tuck her in, kiss her goodnight and call it a night.  But then she stopped sleeping.  I'd drag myself up to bed around 10 or 11 and peek in on her, expecting to find her sleeping and sometimes I did.  But more often than not she was still wide awake and watching tv.

Then she started waking up in the middle of the night and freaking out because her tv wasn't on (it automatically shuts off after four hours) and she'd come running into our room and crying for the tv to be put back on.  It got to the point where she was waking up anywhere from one to four times at night, every night.  And she started waking up ridiculously early...like at 5am...even on the weekends.  And the tantrums...OMG, the tantrums!  It was clear she wasn't getting enough sleep.  I knew I'd created a monster but I was just too tired and too sore to fix it.  I knew that a battle would ensue and I knew that, at that point, Bailey was much stronger than I was.

Then Gerry was born and it was even worse.  Between him waking up and her waking up...it was just a nightmare.  The daytime tantrums were getting even worse and she was kind of a nightmare to be around. She was in a bad mood from the minute her day started to the minute she passed out at night. Scott wasn't working nights anymore now that Christmas was over and I knew I had to bite the bullet and get her back on track while he was here to help.  So we went cold turkey. 

The first night was kind of rough and she cried.  We let her watch just one show on the tv before bed.  When I came in and turned her tv off she freaked out.  Screamed and cried and begged.  But I powered through and, you know what?  She got a great night's sleep.  And was happier the next day.

Bailey's bedtime story of choice these days

It's been almost two weeks and nighttime is sooooo much better.  She gets one show, and then she gets to choose one book from her book case for us to read before bed.  Miss Independent also likes to turn on the lullaby CD all by herself, so she gets that started and then hops into bed.  Then we read the book, I sing her lullaby and it's goodnight.  And it works.  She's gotten no less than ten hours of sleep each night (sometimes more) and she's in a much better mood throughout the day.  Don't get me wrong, she still has her moments.  She's two.  But overall things are much, much better.  She's all about the Mercer Mayer book Just Go To Bed these days.  I let her keep it in bed with her when I leave the room (I'd much rather she fall asleep reading than watching television) and I often hear her "reading" it to herself after I've gone.  And when I go in to check on her before going to be myself the book is always right back in its spot on the book case and she's snuggled up and out cold in her bed.  She hasn't woken up in the middle of the night once since we started turning off the tv.  She's sleeping later in the mornings and is behaving better throughout the day, and I couldn't be happier.

Note to self:  do NOT start bad habits with Gerry!  And when if you do, fix it fast.

5 Minute Friday

Geez, I hope I'm doing this right.  I love the writing aspect of this blog, but the technical stuff?  No bueno.  I'm clueless.  It literally takes me ALL DAY just to change the template on here.  And even then I can't guarantee that it turns out the way I'm hoping or expecting for it to.  So I'm hoping that I linked this up the right way, and here goes!

I happened upon Lisa-Jo Baker's blog  yesterday, and I've been somewhat obsessed with it ever since.  She's a mom blogger, who turned her posts into a book (kind of a dream of mine) and has a huge following of readers.  Her blog is funny and smart and real, and there's this sense of community over there that is hard to find on an internet blog.  I also downloaded my free copy of her e-book The Cheerleader For Tired Moms and I'm pretty pumped to read it.

Anyway, Lisa-Jo does this thing on her blog called 5 Minute Friday.  In a nutshell, bloggers from all over the world log onto her blog on Fridays and receive a writing prompt.  They then write raw for 5 minutes...no editing, no rereading, no proofing.  Just 5 uninterrupted minutes of writing whatever your thoughts are on the subject prompt.  Then all the bloggers "link up" to her blog to share what they've written and encourage the other bloggers who have also linked up.  If I'm reading it correctly, there's some way to also connect on Twitter with the hashtag #5MinuteFriday.

For some reason, I love this idea.  I love that she was able to take this idea and turn it into something that hundreds of bloggers all over have gotten behind and contributed to.  And I plan to be one of them.  Sort of.  Technological illiteracy aside, I think it'll be fun.  And a good way to do something that I love and enjoy (writing) without being stuck in the confines of writing about my kids.  Although, it's a pretty sure bet that most of what I write on 5 Minute Fridays will revolve around them in some way.  In any case, it's 5 minutes to do something purely for me and for the sole purpose of enjoyment and fulfillment.  And I'm really looking forward to it.

I just hope I can figure out how to link to wherever the hell I'm supposed to link to.  So stay tuned!

Happy Valentine's Day!

My two favorite valentines...

Gerry: 6 Weeks

Holy cow, that was a fast 6 weeks!

Nothing new to report on the Gerry front these days.  He's eating like it's his job (growth spurt, maybe?) and is generally a very happy little guy.  He's got his fussy moments, but they're few and far between.  Sleep-wise, it's kind of hit or miss these days.  Last night we got a solid 8 hours out of him, but the night before he was up two or three times.  At this point, we don't know what to expect but he's still super easy if and when he does wake up.  Just wants a quick bottle and then he's passed out again as soon as his belly is full.

 He's been "talking" a lot more lately, too.  This afternoon I found him gazing adoringly at our floor lamp and chatting it up.  It's funny to watch, because he tries so hard to make noise when someone talks to him.  And then when he does he gets all excited and just keeps on pushing sounds out.  And, oh my, his smile!  I could be having the worst day but one quick smile from him and I can't help but feel instantly happier.

Bath time is still a pleasure.  As soon as he hits the water he calms down and just stares at whoever is giving him his bath.  Sometimes he smiles but more often than not he's pretty serious.  Almost like he's focusing on how calming a warm bath can be.  He still doesn't like being taken out of the water, but the last two times he hasn't cried.  Just tensed up until we had him snuggled up in a towel.  His baptism is next week and I'm interested to see how he does with that.hat

That's all for now!

Our "Top" 4

Just need to jot this down for future reference...

Scott and I have been texting back and forth this week our "Top 4 Moments" together as a countdown to Valentine's day.  Corny, I know, but we don't normally do things like that very often (side note:  I've been trying to make more of an effort since Gerry was born to focus on Scott and our marriage and not to be sucked into the "new mom" baby vortex and forget all about him and our relationship like I kind of did for awhile after Bailey was born), and I've genuinely enjoyed reading about what Scott's top moments have been so far.

I'm not a traditionally romantic or "mushy" person and would normally never post this here, but I'm hoping that this blog will still be around years from now and I want my kids to read this.  I want to read it and look back on this time in our lives and remember that, in between the sleepless nights and diaper changes and the overwhelming responsibilities that come with being a parent, there was the two of us.  That we love each other, and that we created these kids and this life together and that it is pretty darn amazing.  It's easy to forget the moments of sweetness when you're covered in spit up and trying talk your toddler down from the ledge of what is sure to be an epic tantrum.  It's easy to forget the love and the bond that brought us together in the first place when we're running on 3 hours of broken sleep and stressing about next month's mortgage payment.  It's easy to forget.  And I don't want to do that.

The rest of our "top moments" are personal and I don't want to share them all here, but I want to share this one because it made me tear up, and anyone who knows me knows that that's a damn hard thing to do.  Scott's #2 top moment:

"#2 - Seeing you grow into the mother that you are.  Great challenges came with both kids and you handled it like a champ.  You are the most caring and balanced mother I have ever known.  You are the only person I know who puts everyone else in front of themselves.  I have never seen you put yourself and your needs in front of mine.  You are truly a gem and knowing how protective you are of our family is a complete turn-on.  Love you, more than words, for our family."

So, yeah...a teeny bit TMI. But telling me that I'm a good mother is pretty much the highest compliment in my book.  Not only did I need the reassurance today, but it made me feel good to realize that he notices the good parts of me even when I don't notice them myself..  I'm interested to see what his #1 is...it's going to take a lot to top this one!

The Great Debate

Yesterday I was trolling browsing my birth board on BabyCenter out of sheer boredom.  After reading the millionth post bemoaning our postpartum bellies (come on, ladies, did you really expect your stomach to stretch to epic proportions and then bounce right back as soon as the baby crowned?), I stumbled upon the thread that led me to this blog post.  Anyone who has spent more than 7 seconds on a baby/birth website or who has "mom friends" will have seen and/or heard the major debates:  cloth diapering versus disposables, breastfeeding versus formula feeding, letting your baby cry it out versus tending to their every need, co-sleeping versus crib sleeping.  The list goes on and on, and a lot of women feel very strongly about their particular stance.  I personally think "to each his own".  I definitely have a "stance" as far as these debates go, but I won't judge another mother based on how she chooses to raise her kids...unless, of course, she beats or regularly abandons them or something equally as horrific.

I've been visiting parenting websites since my first pregnancy back in 2009.  I've seen and taken part in quite a few debates regarding child rearing, but there's one debate that seems to get women angrier, more defensive, and infinitely more pissed off than all the rest...Being a working mom versus being a stay at home mom.

If ever you want to be attacked by a pack of angry women out for blood, just mention this debate.  You don't even need to say which side you advocate for...they will all come after you if they think you lean "the other way".  I might not have much to say about the downfalls and merits of  a lot of debates because I simply don't have much experience with both sides on many of them.  I use only disposable diapers and have my own opinion on cloth diapers, but I can't say that cloth diapering is bad or weird, because I don't cloth diaper.  I can't argue the good points of crying it out because I don't let my babies cry it out before a certain age.  I can, however, argue both sides of the working mom vs. stay at home mom debate.

Those of you who know me or who've been following this blog from the beginning know that I'm a home daycare provider.  Because I run a business out of my home, I get the best of both worlds, right?  I'm a working mom, but I'm also at home during the day.  I get to spend the early and most important years of their lives with my kids, but I also get to do something and to make an income, however small it may be.  I can totally identify with both working mothers and mothers who stay at home.  And, you know what?  Neither way is better or worse than the other.  Both ways of life are just as hard, just as rewarding, and can be just as nerve-wracking when it comes to deciding which is best for your family.

A lot of people who work outside the home have kind of a skewed image of what a stay at home mom does.  Most of them think moms who stay at home just hang out and play all day and that, since they don't go to an office (or factory or school or whatever building other people work in), their "job" is much easier.  My own husband has used the phrase "Well, you're home all day..." when discussing why we don't eat dinner before 6pm most nights or why I'm sometimes a frazzled mess when he gets home from work.  

Yes, yes I am home all day.  But, daycare aside, I spend my day making meals and snacks for my kids, washing dishes (about 4 times before dinner), washing and prepping bottles, changing diapers, straightening up what I can around the house while the kids are napping, planning and executing fun activities for the kids to do, cleaning up any accidents that may occur around the house, getting the mail, taking out the trash, setting up doctor's appointments, sweeping and mopping the kitchen floor (after removing whatever mystery stains and goo I find after the kids have come through), etc., etc., etc.  This doesn't even include the time spent getting my kids dressed, brushing Bailey's teeth and combing her hair, disciplining and then calming her down after the 48 tantrums she throws before lunch, or cleaning up the 84,392 toys she leaves lying all over the place...or fighting with her to help me clean those damn toys, calming and soothing a cranky baby, or taking care of them when they're sick.  It also doesn't include the 14 outfit changes for Gerry every time he spits up or poops clear out the top or sides (or sometimes both) of his diaper.  I'm at home raising my children, not sitting on my ass.  I'm there to witness all their "firsts" and I'm there making sure that they're being raised with the values and behaviors that Scott and I want for them to have.  I get kisses and hugs and attitude on an hourly basis.  I'm kissing boo boos and chasing away monsters and calming fears, and that takes precedence over everything else I do most days.  Being at home with my kids is a 24/7 job.  It's hard and it's often thankless.  A lot of people who aren't home all day think being a stay at home mom is the easiest thing in the world...it's not.  But neither is being a working mom.

I can't speak specifically for other working moms because, plain and simple, we all work very different jobs with very different hours, and are expected to perform different duties pertaining to our jobs.  This is my own personal experience as a working mom.

My "work day" starts at around 6:15am, when the first daycare kids arrive.  And then it is, literally go-go-go until 5:30pm when the last kid leaves.  You read that right.  I work 11 hour days, 5 days a week.  My work day consists of making breakfast, lunch and snacks for all of the kids; giving bottles to the babies and spoon feeding the toddlers who aren't old enough yet to feed themselves; changing diapers; running kids to and from the bathroom;  working on potty training with the kids who aren't trained yet; teaching preschool; planning and executing all of our preschool activities; setting up lesson plans and materials for the next day; washing dishes from whatever meal or snack the kids have eaten (we really need a dish washer); sweeping and mopping the floor after meals; working on fine and gross motor skills with ALL of the kids; tummy time for the infants; helping the older babies with their rolling/crawling/walking skills; getting all of the kids down for a nap; answering emails/texts/phone calls from parents who want to check in on their kids or confirm some daycare-related detail or share a cute anecdote about what their kid did over the weekend or the night before.  This doesn't include the parental things I do for my own kids like the teeth brushing and getting dressed that I mentioned before, and it also doesn't include the hours I spend every day consoling sick, sad or grumpy kids, fixing boo boos, teaching them how to get along and play well together and then stepping in when they're having a hard time being kind to each other.  It doesn't include the time I spend after my work day is finished or on the weekends thinking up cool projects to do or games to play, or running to the store for art supplies or wipes or whatever other daycare-related items I need to keep the business running.  It also doesn't include the time I spend dusting and vacuuming and sanitizing the house to reduce the spread of germs and illness.  And then when the last kid goes home, I'm in Mommy Mode:  cooking dinner (or, more likely these days, ordering dinner) and then cleaning up after.  Then it's bath time for both kids, jammies and stories before bed, and then actually putting them to bed.  Then there's another hour or so putting Bailey back to bed after she's attempted every one of the stall tactics in her repertoire. And this is all assuming they're both having a good day and being really agreeable.  Factor in the middle of the night diaper changes and feedings and putting Bailey back to bed yet again and it's no wonder this mom is exhausted.


Being a working mom is hard.  Just as hard as being a stay at home mom.  When all is said and done, though, aren't we all just trying to be the best moms we can be?  Aren't we just trying to do what's best for our families?  All debating aside, whether you're a stay at home mom or a working mom, you're working your ass off every single day to do right by your family, and for that we should all be commended.

Gerry: One Month Old

He found his voice tonight!

Gerry is one month old!   Actually, he's 5 weeks old today, which brings me to a good point: what do we say when someone asks how old he is...one month?  5 weeks?  I'd hate to be that mom who's like, "My kid is 72 months old!"  instead of "I have a six year old", you know?  But, I digress.  Anyway...

Gerry is officially one month old, and it's been a quick month.  We had a doctor's appointment this afternoon, and little man is tipping the scales at 10 lbs. 2.5oz. and 21 3/4 inches long.  He did great throughout the appointment and even handled his HepB shot like a champ, only crying for a second before occupying himself with his bottle.  His doctor mentioned that he has a slight case of strabismus which, of course, has me slightly worried.  Strabismus, in laymen's terms, is being cross-eyed.  I'd never noticed it in Gerry before, but his doctor explained that when light was shone in Gerry's eyes it was pretty centered in one pupil and slightly off-center in the other.  When he showed me what to look for, I noticed it but it doesn't seem too bad.  The doctor said that it's not something to worry about until he's closer to six months old, but that we can keep an eye on it.  So for now we wait.  And I refuse to stress about it.  Honestly, if the doctor hadn't mentioned it I never would have noticed it or been aware of it.  He's perfect to me anyway.

Doctor's visit aside, here's a little rundown of what Gerry's been up to the last four weeks.

Hey Girl

He's smiling at people...sporadically.  Still lots of sleepy smiles or smiles when he just stares off into space (my mom says he's smiling at his angels, and I find that hugely comforting to think), but he does smile often when Scott or I talk to him.  And, of course, he smiles like crazy at Bailey.  I'm happy to report that she still loves him to pieces.

Gerry has also discovered his voice.  He still surprises himself a lot of the time, but he's been making spontaneous noises a lot lately, and he's got the sweetest little voice.

Still not sleeping through the night, but we weren't expecting that anyway.  He normally wakes up to eat around 1:30 am and then again around 5am.  Luckily, he's pretty good about eating and then going right back to sleep, so it's not much of a hassle to get up with him...and we really can't complain about only getting up twice during the night, either!  During the day, he's a pretty good napper, and is just about on the same schedule as the daycare kids.  His long naps are usually from about 6am to around 9am or so, and then again from about 2pm to around 5:30pm.  And then he takes a few more shorter naps throughout the day.  He's a good sleeper.  ;-)

He loves to be snuggled up

Other than that, there's not too much to report on the Gerry front.  He's doing great and we all love him to pieces...especially Bailey.  We found her laying on the floor next to him again this morning.  At 5:30am.  I have no idea how long she'd been in there or if she was awake the whole time, but she was definitely there.  Thank God she likes him and doesn't have any immediate plans to harm him, because she totally could have smothered him in his sleep and Scott and I would have been none the wiser.  In fact, I brought this point up to Scott this morning and he mentioned that maybe it's time to move him into his crib.  I'm not quite ready for that yet, but we can definitely move him into a pack and play or something.  The sad thing is that we have a perfectly beautiful cradle right next to our bed, but he can't won't use it.  Gerry still loves to be swaddled, but he likes his arms to be semi-free.  However, any time he makes the slightest movement the cradle rocks, his startle reflex kicks into high gear, and then he's good and awake.  And hard to get back to sleep because it scares him and then he freaks out.

That reminds me.  Gerry loves to be snuggled up, whether it be in a blanket, a towel or in someone's arms.  He relaxes that way and is instantly "chill".  Bath time has also greatly improved!  I think he actually really enjoys it now.  He prefers the water nice and warm, and just kind of stares at me while I bathe him.  He hates being naked and/or cold, though, so he usually cries when I take him out.  But as soon as I've got him wrapped up in a towel he quiets down and stares or smiles while I lotion him up and get him dressed.

Cinderelly, Cinderelly?

Bailey is doing great, too!  I feel like she gets a little bit funnier, a little bit smarter, and just a teeny bit more exasperating every day.  She's reasoning with us a lot more lately, which is driving both Scott and myself crazy.  Last night, she kept asking for "one more show" before bed.  No big deal, right?  Except that she kept changing her mind about what show she wanted to watch.  Then she needed more milk...except the milk was too cold, so we needed to heat it up.  After that, she wanted to "help mommy"...with what, I don't know and I don't think she does, either.  I'll give her credit...she did prolong her bedtime by more than an hour when all was said and done so, clearly, she's better at negotiation than we are.

Content?

Yesterday I got a Facebook message from a high school friend who I've only spoken to sporadically in the past ten years (which reminds me...I really need to be better about keeping in touch with old friends.  Like, seriously).  She asked me how I liked having kids and mentioned that when she told someone she wanted children someday, that person basically told her that she would regret it and to just take care of her husband and dog.  So she wanted my take on things.  And then she said something that I've been thinking about ever since:  "You seem pretty happy and content, so I wanted to hear what it was like from a different perspective".

You seem pretty happy and content.

I can't get those words out of my head.  Is that how I seem to people?  Or just to people I don't see in everyday life?  Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled that that is the image I give off, and it made my day to read those words.  But I guess I've always just thought that when people read what I post on Facebook they got a different picture of my life. Kind of like..."frazzled, crazy children, doesn't know what the hell she's doing".  That kind of picture.  But contentment?  That's something I didn't realize I exuded publicly.  And it makes me happy to know that at least one person sees that.

When I first started this blog, it was all unicorns and rainbows and I'm-so-in-love-with-my-baby-and-can't-believe-how-wonderful-everything-is. And, at the time, that's totally how it was.  But there were also those times where everything just seemed to go wrong and I couldn't get my shit together and Bailey had screaming melt-down tantrums and I wanted to just leave her in a basket on the front porch and hope that someone...anyone... took her.  And I don't even have a front porch.  But I didn't write about all those times because this blog was about my baby and I didn't want anyone to see that my baby wasn't always perfect or that *I* wasn't always perfect.

If you've been following this blog from the beginning, you'll see that things are a bit different these days.  I'm "keepin' it real" and writing honestly.  I'm not sugarcoating things these days (although, you can bet your bottom dollar that when one of my kids does something cute or brag-worthy, I'm totally going to write all about it and gush and be all "mom-like" and proud), and I'm not "hiding" the crazy, not-so-perfect parts of our life.  It's all out there, guys, because these are the kinds of things I wanted and needed to read back before I had kids.  These are the kinds of things I want and need to read now.  I don't want to read about how damn perfect someone's life is or how wonderful someone else's kids are.  I don't want to see pictures of a toddler's room that is so pristine and perfect it doesn't even look like the kid lives in it or pictures of the made-from-scratch cookies one mom baked with her kid.  And I definitely don't want to see pictures with the caption "Johnny was a little devil today.  He absolutely destroyed the house!" and there's just the faintest little handprint on the window in an otherwise picture-perfect, spotless home.

Those are the people who I've always considered happy and content.  I've even gone so far as to bitch to my good friend about how perfect the life of one of the girls we went to high school with is, and what a beautiful house she has and how adorable and well-behaved and perfect her kids seem all the time...based on her Facebook photos and statuses. I don't talk to this woman on a regular basis, but maybe if I did she'd tell me that her life isn't all that perfect and that sometimes her kids are little shits and she'd like to lock them in a closet or something (but I bet she'd never use the term "little shits" because she's not one to curse and I, on the other hand, have a mouth like a sailor).  Who wants to post a status on Facebook about what a horrible day their kid is having?  Or post a picture of their kitchen counter that is now covered in permanent marker because they left their 2-year-old alone long enough to sneak to the bathroom in peace for the first time in 2 years and said toddler got into the junk drawer and found all the Sharpies?  (By the way, if any of you know how to remove permanent marker from a countertop, I'd really appreciate you sharing your wisdom with me).

My point is...no one's life is as perfect as it may seem online.  Especially mine.  Hell, I started writing this post six hours ago.  Six hours.  And I'm only now just sitting down to finish it.  In the middle of my third paragraph, Bailey threw the most epic tantrum I've ever seen over God-only-knows-what.  When talking calmly/distracting/ignoring her didn't work I ended up sending her to her room and locking the door so I could regain my sanity.  She spent a half hour screaming "mommy" at the top of her lungs and banging on her bedroom door.  When I went up to talk to her (calmly and rationally and ending with a smile and an "I love you", 'cause that's how I roll) I found her wearing a set of rosary beads as a necklace.  I have no clue where she found them, but I let her keep them because I figured after the way she just behaved the little demon needed God in her life.  And then after that the baby pooped all over himself, the kitchen was still a disaster from lunch, Bailey had another tantrum, the baby threw up all over himself, Bailey had another tantrum, and the baby decided to join in all the tantruming because I wasn't feeding him fast enough...and so I'm just now getting back to this post.  Six hours later.  My life is far from perfect.  But it is pretty damn good.  Tantrums and screaming and all.  And just when I think I can't handle another...damn...screaming fit, Bailey does something so incredibly sweet or so hilariously funny that I completely forget about how angry I was earlier.  And THAT is when I post on Facebook.

For the record, I am content.  Very content.  Most days, I feel like I've got this mom thing down and like I really do know what I'm doing.  On those days, I've had a shower and my hair looks halfway presentable, both kids are bathed, fed, happy and well-mannered, my house is (semi)clean and dinner is on the table. And also, I've gotten both children to bed with no tears and no arguing over "just one more show".  But then there's a day or two (or four) where, at the end of the day, the ONLY thing I've successfully accomplished was to keep my kids alive. And that's okay.  Because even if nothing else gets accomplished and we've had 14,000 things go wrong, these two still make my day a million times better than it would have been otherwise.

Content?  Absolutely!

3 Weeks Old!

Gerry was three weeks old yesterday.  I can't help remembering how differently I felt when Bailey was just three weeks old.  I remember looking at her on the day she turned one month old and thinking how I couldn't believe that just four weeks I had given birth.  It seemed so incredibly surreal at the time, and right up until her first birthday I would randomly think to myself, I gave birth ____ weeks/months ago.  I was in awe of the whole experience, in awe of the fact that I had had a baby, in awe of the fact that she was here and she was mine.

This time around, I don't feel the same kind of wonderment.  Don't get me wrong, I'm still completely in awe of what I did and the fact that I had a baby (and, yes, I will shout to the heavens that I had an 8 lb. baby without an epidural)...but I think I'm just so busy this time around (plus, it wasn't so new to me this time) that I haven't really sat down and processed how awesome it is.  And it IS awesome.  HE is awesome.  The fact that I was blessed to grow another life and then bring that life into this world is awesome.  But I don't have the luxury of hanging out at home and just gazing at my little boy for hours like I did with Bailey.  Despite the busy-ness of our everyday lives, though, I'm still completely smitten with him.

Good Morning!

A little play yard fun

So here's a quick rundown of how our first three weeks have been.  In a word, it's been fantastic.  I mentioned in an earlier post how wonderful Bailey has been with him, and I still stand by that.  She just adores him and it makes me so proud to see her with him, whether it's just sitting next to him with her hand resting on his head, giving him a bink, or consoling him when he cries ("It's okay, Baby Gerry.  I know, I know.  I'm here, it's okay.")...to see her show him such love and empathy makes me happier than I ever thought it would.



  

I woke up the other night and found Bailey laying on the floor (in our bedroom) next to Gerry's bouncy seat.  He sleeps best in there so we've foregone the cradle for now, though we'll try putting him in it again soon.  Anyway, I found her laying on the floor next to him.  They were both wide awake and she was just talking to him about God-knows-what and he was kind of looking at her...like he really knew what she was talking about.  I would have just let them go and let Bailey talk his little ear off...if it hadn't been about 3:15am.And speaking of 3:15am...darling Gerry has not been sleeping as well as he was last week.  I'm chalking it up to (hopefully) a growth spurt and hoping that he goes back to "normal" soon.  The past few nights, he's been waking up every 1 1/2-3 hours and yesterday he would not nap for anything!  God bless him, though, he only really cries if he's super hungry and I'm taking too long to feed him.  He just keeps wanting to eat and eat and eat and would only sleep if I was holding him.  The second I put him down he'd wake right back up and fuss for a bottle.

FEED ME!!!

 Speaking of bottles...I'm no longer breastfeeding.  And I think I'm okay with it.  I mentioned in this post about not being able to nurse Bailey and how I really thought that contributed to my PPD.  Well, I gave it my best shot with Gerry, and he nursed right away after birth.  I was thrilled, and really thought that we'd be good to go.  I saw lactation consultants while in the hospital and spoke to a good family friend to get tips and advice.  I was told that we had a good latch and that I was doing everything right, but by the third day I was in pain all over again.  I was putting nipple cream on around the clock and making sure that I had Gerry latched on properly every time but it was still excruciatingly painful for me.  I was pretty determined, especially since he had nursed right away with no problem in the hospital, but the pain just wouldn't let up.  It got to the point where, just like with Bailey, I dreaded every feeding.  My mom knew how badly I wanted to breastfeed, so she had armed me with everything I could possibly need to have a successful nursing experience.  Thanks to her, I had nipple shields, cooling gel pads, comfort heating pads, nipple cream, nursing bras...basically anything and everything I could possibly need.  And I used the hell out of it all.  But nothing was helping ME.

 
Then Gerry started to get agitated at every feeding.  He'd nurse for a few minutes and then pull away.  I'd put him back on, he'd nurse again for awhile, and then start batting at me and rooting around for more.  He seemed frustrated and I was in pain all throughout the feeding.  He lost weight, and hadn't gone back up to his birth weight by the time we had our weight check at around 2 weeks old.  When he was born, he had blood sugar issues and jaundice that almost kept him in the hospital after I was discharged, so I was constantly worried about these things on top of whether or not he was getting enough to eat.  When he wasn't nursing, I was pumping to keep up my supply and it felt like all I did was either nurse or pump all day and night.  I wasn't spending time with either Gerry or Bailey because of it, and I started to feel stressed and sad.  Luckily, I realized it early and made an appointment with my OB. 

She conferred with another OB in the practice and they came to the conclusion that breastfeeding is a "trigger" for my PPD.  It doesn't come easily to me and I put too much pressure on myself and on my baby to do it.  The doctors made a good point...stressing out over breastfeeding was keeping me from enjoying Bailey and the new baby and was causing unhappiness at a time when I should have been excited and looking forward to spending time with my children.  And a stressed out and unhappy mommy can only lead to stressed out and unhappy kids.  If I'm not enjoying my time with them, what's the point?  So I started giving Gerry formula.  I wasn't thrilled about it, but he took to it right away and I found that I was able to really enjoy him and I looked forward to feeding him instead of dreading it (he looks right into my eyes and squeezes my finger with his little hand, and it's one of my favorite parts of our day).  I was also able to enjoy Bailey more.  The constant dread of feeding time left me with little patience and a lot of irritation, and poor Bailey had to take a back seat during that time.  Now, I could sit and talk to her  or read a book or just generally give her some much-needed attention while I gave Gerry a bottle and I could see that she was happier, too.  I wasn't spending my "downtime" worried about feeding the baby or constantly attached to the breast pump, and it felt good.  I was able to pump and store enough that I can give Gerry some breast milk whenever he gets a bottle (at least until it runs out), and I feel good that I can give him at least a little bit of "the good stuff".  I promised myself that this time around if nursing didn't work out that I wasn't going to beat myself up over it.  I did cry a time or two while I was weighing my options and making my decision but, ultimately, I think I did what was best for all of us.  Gerry is happy and thriving, Bailey is happy and loves to help feed her baby brother, and Scott and I take turns giving him a bottle in the middle of the night.  Do I wish that I could exclusively breastfeed?  Hell yes, I do.  But I'm not beating myself up this time around.  I did the best I could.  And the added bonus is that I'm not suffering with PPD and am on no medications for it...happy mommy, happy family.  

Unfortunately, I don't have any pictures of the happy family.  I do, however, have a few pictures of Gerry.  And one of Bailey.  Miss Independent doesn't sit still long enough these days to get a good (read: non-blurry) picture.  So for now, I leave you with these...

Listen up, lady.  Stop taking my picture!

Snuggled up with mommy

Sleepy Smiles

My Happy Girl